Chapter 1
The distant shore of Finland loomed closer. The ferry windows revealed a crisp gray ocean, chunked here and there with icy slush slabs, beneath a sharp azure sky. This was the last leg in a three-day journey from London to Hamburg, to Copenhagen, to Stockholm, all by train. Flying was out of the question. Jack Angelo liked to keep his feet as close to the ground as possible. There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to get his feet that far from earth. The exception being this ferry, but he’d been sipping ginger tea since boarding sixteen hours earlier.
That he was eager to set foot on land after this cruise across the Baltic Sea was putting things mildly. To avoid the anxiety that clung to his neck like an alien being, he’d eaten in the dining room (dry toast and fruit), gambled a bit (he was up sixty quid), and in the lounge he’d had a few shots of something called Salmiakki. The bartender had said it was a Finnish favorite—was supposed to taste like salted black licorice.
It had looked and tasted more like tar, Jack thought now as he regretted that third shot, which still roiled in his gut.
A sudden gust of wind beat against the windows and rocked the ferry. As frigid and icy as Helsinki promised to be, he should have worn a winter coat. The dress coat he wore over his suit was warm enough for London’s winter, but not below-zero tundra stuff. And while he’d never been across the ocean to visit the Finns, he knew that the country was not a place any man who did not want his bollocks to permanently freeze should visit in January.
Opportunity had provided an assignment in Helsinki, and necessity required he not complain. He would be in proximity to a new beginning. He had to take this chance, even if it was more forced than he desired.
He was sitting in an aisle seat, next to a very pregnant young woman with dyed black hair who kept shifting in the seat and biting her fingernails. They were soon to arrive at Helsinki’s Katajanokka Harbour, but this was the first time he’d sat for more than twenty minutes or so.
With all his seat mate’s commotion and occasional groans of discomfort, Jack hoped she wouldn’t give birth before then.
“Headed in to Helsinki?” he asked the woman.
“Yes, to meet my fiancé. He wants to live in Finland. We’ve been here two years, off and on. But I don’t know. I’m more of a London girl myself.” Her accent sounded like the Queen’s English to Jack. There were so many accents in the city. Even he had trouble understanding the cockneys who dropped their letters. “I’m not so keen on this big wobbly boat, are you?”
“Ginger tea.” He tapped the empty paper cup he’d set in the cup holder.
“What does that do? Calm you down? Whew!” She shifted again. “I think this baby just kicked my kidneys. Oh! Did you feel that?”
The boat had lurched, probably cresting against the sharp whitecaps the captain had told them they’d experience on this cold and windy morning.
“It’s okay. We’re almost there,” he reassured in a calm voice that managed to surprise himself. “I bet we’ll be docking in ten minutes.”
“Brilliant.” Managing a weak grimace, her hand smoothed over her stomach. “What about you? You sound like an Irishman but you’ve got a bit of something else going on in there. Heading home or visiting?”
He smirked at her assessment. The Italian in him gave his Irish a run for the money sometimes. “Just a short visit.”
“Where you staying?”
“Huh?”
“I know a lot of the hotels. Worked at a few of them as a maid. You would not believe the things people leave behind in their rooms. I’m talking DNA evidence, you know?”
Jack lifted a brow. They were fast headed toward TMI.
“Sorry. I know too much about some things a person shouldn’t know much about,” she added. “I like to observe. Take everything in. Anyway, you going cozy or fancy?”
He waggled a hand before him. “Maybe middle ground. I’ll decide when I plant my feet on land again.”
She nodded. “I suggest the Hotel Hop. It’s nice and cozy, and the sheets are clean. Trust me on that one. It’s tucked at the northern suburb of Toukola. Quaint little village feel to it, so there’s not a lot of noise. That is, if you want to be away from the bustle of the city. Helsinki is so cosmopolitan, you know? And the hotel has outdoor hot tubs, too. Don’t let the cold freak you. Ten seconds of frigid is worth it for the soak in steamy water. Ah, bloody babies.”
She gestured that she was going to stand. “I need a bathroom break. This bloke keeps playing MMA fighter with my kidneys.”
She pulled herself up by the back of the seat in front of her, and then stumbled, or maybe all that weight hugging her belly toppled her off balance. With a sudden swing, she caught her hands against Jack’s chest and her long black hair brushed his face.
“Ah shite. I’m so sorry, mister.”
“No problem. You okay?”
“Yes. Sort of. Don’t ever let anyone tell you having a baby is easy.” She pushed up to stand, using his chest as leverage. “You smell nice. Like ice and pine. I’ll be right back.”
He smiled to himself as she wobbled down the aisle toward the bathrooms, and wondered how such a small woman could get so large. Her belly circumference must equal her height. Would she fit in one of those tiny bathrooms? For her sake, he hoped the fiancé would find her a nice warm climate to settle down in and take care of his family well. Family should be a man’s focus. Always.
He’d probably check out the hotel she suggested. He liked it when the minor, extraneous decisions were made for him, leaving him to concentrate on the task at hand. And away from the bustle of the city? Sounded perfect, especially since he’d need to keep a low profile for his current assignment.
Knowing his penchant for avoiding air travel, The Elite Crimes Unit had dispatched him three days ago. Travel expenses were always covered. His assignment? Infiltrate a crew of bank robbers and learn what it was, exactly, they were stealing. They’d committed a heist, of sorts, a few weeks ago in a small but elite Belgian bank. According to an inside source, it had been a clean job, four crew members, two hours in and out. Except. Nothing had been taken from the bank. No cash, no security bonds, not even a hack into the bank’s clientele database. They’d walked in, had gone through all the motions of robbing the place, and then had left. With nothing.
Or had they?
It was Jack’s job to find out, and to be there when it happened again.
He did love a good heist. Had participated in half a dozen successful endeavors himself. Successful meaning, he and his crew had most definitely walked out with cold, hard cash.
He’d been born into the business. Heists, extortion, and occasional smuggling jobs were the Angelos’ means to a living. Family was everything to Jack, and he’d learned that a man protected family before himself always. That included a father with a heart condition who would never survive a decade behind bars. So when Jack had been arrested for a petty traffic violation and taken into Scotland Yard for questioning—and Interpol had been sitting in the room—he had known the jig was up. He would not give up his father for his participation in a two-year smuggling job that had shifted almost a billion pounds’ worth of AK-47s from Iraq to the US. So Jack had been sent to Brixton prison for ten years.
Two years served had given him a lot of time to think. When The Elite Crimes Unit had offered him a get out of jail free card in exchange for working off his remaining eight years, Jack had considered it. They hadn’t asked him to give up his father. Or to divulge information about the crimes any in his family had committed. But to work on the opposite side of the law? He’d almost said no. Had crossed his arms and watched as, after the final ultimatum, the Interpol agent with the long blond hair and ice in her eyes had stood and left the interrogation room. The door had closed.
And Jack had wondered if he’d done the right thing. Certainly he could endure another eight years on the inside. But.
And the but had occurred on the way out of the interrogation room. He’d been handcuffed, a dark hood had been placed over his head, and he’d been knocked out. He’d come to in the back of a van, parked in the East London cemetery. Right next to his late sister’s grave.
The promise of his tombstone right next to hers, had decided him. A man couldn’t continue to protect his family if he was six feet under. Or in prison. He’d agreed to work for the ECU. The last three years had been…not terrible. And he’d been able to keep up a covert line of communications regarding his family’s activities, though he’d never risk speaking directly to any of them.
And then he’d gotten the information about his brother, Jonny, three days ago. The idiot was in trouble.
Which was why Jack had agreed to take the job in Helsinki. It had almost been a gift, landing on his radar but hours after learning about Jonny.
Checking his wristwatch, he realized ten minutes had passed. A glance out the windows proved the ferry had already docked. He hadn’t noticed their arrival. Not a heavy jolt or even a horn to announce their docking. He swung a look over his shoulder toward the bathrooms. Still in there? It had been a long time. Maybe he should check on her?
He slapped a palm over his heart, where he kept his wallet and—something felt wrong. After digging in the inner coat pocket, he came up empty. No wallet. He’d had his passport in that pocket as well. What the bloody hell?
“Really?” She’d pickpocketed him?
Bursting up to stand and striding toward the bathrooms, Jack knocked on the door and called, “Ma’am? You in there?” No answer. He pushed the door and it opened to reveal an empty bathroom and… “Oi.”
A false belly had been abandoned on top of the toilet. It had large, foam breasts attached to it as well.
“Of all the—” The last time someone had tried to dupe him they’d walked away bleeding. What the hell? He’d never suspect a pregnant chick, that was sure. “Clever. But just for a wallet?”
He spied the leather wallet sticking out of the trash bin and pulled it out. Three hundred euros—he’d exchanged pounds in Stockholm—gone and… He didn’t keep anything else of value in it save a lock-pick set. That was gone as well. He opened the cabinet beneath the tiny sink and tugged out the bin. Nothing inside but wet paper towels. No bloody passport.
The ferry captain announced disembarkment could now commence, and Jack soared down the aisle, checking faces and not seeing the dark-haired woman. She could have already made an escape, for the doors opened and everyone stood up, blocking him from reconnaissance.
“Damn it!” He scanned through the windows but the thick crowd did not offer up the thief.
The day was getting off to a right terrible start.
* * * *
Even after entering the warmth of the four-story building, he still shivered. Jack stood before the reception desk at the Hotel Hop, waiting for the pretty receptionist to book him a room. Her red hair spilled over one green eye and a sigh lifted her breasts beneath the sheer red shirt that was strategically unbuttoned to reveal cleavage.
He could use some of that.
“Just a visit?” she asked in a tired tone.
Jack startled out of his stare. But she’d seen the trajectory of his gaze. It was about as close to flirting as he ever got. “Of course. You don’t think I’d purposely stay in this ice box?”
She smiled, but it was weary. “Would you like a ground level room or higher up?”
“Ground level is good.” Always made for an easy escape. Not that he planned any escapes. Not yet.
She handed him back his ferry receipt, which he’d used for ID after telling her he’d been robbed. It had been easy enough to clear customs at the docks thanks to his ECU credentials, but from here on he was just another visitor. When he’d given her the receipt, she had shrugged, laughed and, with a look over her shoulder—keeping an eye out for management?—had said she’d take care of him. And that promise hadn’t been empty but rather had ended with a seductive wink. Thankfully, he had memorized his ECU-issued credit card number. That always came in handy.
“If you don’t mind me saying…” He leaned onto the desk. “You look about as happy to be here as I do.”
She blew a sweep of soft hair from her face. “I’m ending an eighteen-hour shift. Can’t wait to tilt back a whiskey and head home.”
“The whiskey here in the bar?”
“It’s remarkably good,” she said with a nod toward the bar down the hallway. “Stop in before you head to your room. I will meet you there?”
Now that was an invitation he could get behind. And since he wasn’t scheduled to get “vetted” by the leader of the bank crew until later this evening, he’d take her up on it.
“I’ll have a drink waiting for you. Thanks.” He tucked the room key in his front pocket, winked at her, and strolled toward the bar.
He was not a man to ignore the obvious. A chat in the bar with a lovely bird? Great way to ease his apprehensions about this job. Not that he was nervous. It was different this time. His life would change. And he’d never be able to look back.
The receptionist arrived five minutes later and slid onto the creaky wooden bar stool beside him, tilted back the entire two fingers of whiskey, gestured for another, and then finally turned a smile up at him. “I’m Rachel. And you are my lunchtime fling.”
“Is that so?” After two servings, he was feeling the whiskey. It was strong enough to “put the hair on his back,” as his father would say. Hell of a lot better than that tar shite on the ferry. “You do know my room number.”
“I put you at the end of the hallway. Quiet down there. And maid service is at the opposite side of the building right now. You had enough to drink?”
Sexy and to the point. He did like this woman. Jack’s gaze dropped to her cleavage, which was much more apparent now that another button had been freed. “Absolutely.”
They made it into his room in a flurry of kisses and scattered overcoat and suit coat. Hands moving over her breasts and down her narrow waist, Jack lifted Rachel up and pressed her back to the wall. She kissed him deeply and hungrily. This was not a shy flirtation. They both meant business.
A glide of his hand over her thigh and between her legs found her panties were…not there. What kind of welcome to the city had he stumbled on?
“Oh, Jack, yes! Slam me against the wall!” She moaned into his kiss as his fingers explored her wetness. Slick and hot, he wanted to feel her all about his cock now.
She tugged his tie loose and started to unbutton his shirt, but gave up and shoved it up to slap a palm to his chest.
“Pants off,” she said between furious kisses. The fingers of her other hand raked across his scalp, where he kept his hair shaved at a quarter inch. “Hurry!”
He was all for fast and furious. Pants down, Jack plunged his hard-on into the softest, hottest, most welcoming escape from the day he’d ever known. All the back-numbing travel slipped into a distant memory. Even the humiliating pickpocket incident ceased to matter. Groaning roughly, he thrust into her heat, and thumbed at her nipples through the bra he hadn’t taken the time to remove. He would come like that, but he wanted to ride this bird a bit longer.
He lifted her by the arse and carried her to the bed, wobbling with his pants about his ankles. Landing them both on the bed, they disconnected briefly until she greedily pulled him back inside her and locked her legs about his hips.
“You certainly know what you want,” he muttered.
“A quickie from the biggest cock I’ve had in a while.”
He’d take the compliment. He did have a sizable—
“Oh!” She was coming and he was surprised by that. Most women needed more stimulation. Again, he wasn’t about to argue. But it was time for him to catch up. So he gave a few more thrusts and surrendered to the immense and satisfying release as she spilled out a short but effusive cry. Her spasms milked him to a satisfying orgasm. He slammed into her and shuddered above her.
Hell. Yes.
Oi.
Collapsing on top of her, then rolling to the side, Jack fisted the air triumphantly. “Welcome to Hel-freakin’-sinki.”
She laughed and slid off the bed, flipping her thick red hair away from her face. Disheveled suited her beautifully. Her dark lashes fluttered over bright green eyes. “Can I use your bathroom, my big Irish bull?”
“It’s all yours, Red.” Jack closed his eyes.
Now he took a moment to toe off his shoes and let them drop to the floor. After gliding a hand down his abs, he gently gripped the base of his spent erection. It was a comfort hold. The shudders of orgasm still lingered faintly, and a squeeze of his rod milked them for a few sweet moments.
“Thanks, Jack Angelo,” Rachel called from the hallway. From his position on the bed he couldn’t see her. “I’m going to head home now. Have a great stay here in the city.”
Her quick escape didn’t bother him. Too much. They’d both gotten what they’d wanted. Jack closed his eyes and settled in the aftereffects of orgasm.
It must have been half an hour later that he snorted out of sleep and realized he’d dozed off. He sat up on the bed, laughing because his pants were still around his ankles. His dick was limp but happy. Standing and pulling up his pants, he decided he’d rent a car and drive into the city proper, pick up some new clothes and warmer gear, and have a bite to eat before tonight’s meeting. He also wanted to check out the bank that intel told him was the target.
He strolled into the bathroom to take a piss. Glancing over the fake marble vanity as he did his business, he hissed at the sight of what sat there. Zipping quickly, he picked up the passport set open like a birthday card to display the inside. His passport.
“What the hell? How did she?” Jack slapped a palm to the hard vanity.
Had the two women been somehow working together? The pregnant chick had recommended this hotel. Bloody Christ, he’d allowed himself to be duped by two women in less than half a day. What was wrong with him?
“You’re already off the clock,” he muttered about his failing instincts. “Stay sharp, Jack. One more job. And then you’re out. For good.”
He tucked the passport in his pocket, then headed out.